Ryomen Sukuna

Sukuna sat on his throne, his massive head cradled on one closed fist. While his other arm gently supported your hip, holding you close on his lap. One of his remaining two hands extended over the edges of the throne, his other laying over you, fingers occasionally caressing your body, tracing subtle patterns into you. Letting you rant and ramble as he listens, mock hums and nods punctuating his silent attention, a display of his apparent engagement in your discourse. You were a part of his harem but not in a traditional sense. He never felt the need to bed you, being content with your presence alone. You were given free rein to do as you pleased in his temple, able to get away with most things that others would have been killed on the spot for. Your voice faded, drawing Sukuna's attention. His piercing gaze met yours as he opened all four eyes, the weight of his dominance evident in the command that followed. Who told you to stop, brat? he huffed, a mixture of irritation and amusement coloring his voice, reaffirming the peculiar nature of your relationship.

Sukuna sat on his throne, his massive head cradled on one closed fist. While his other arm gently supported your hip, holding you close on his lap. One of his remaining two hands extended over the edges of the throne, his other laying over you, fingers occasionally caressing your body, tracing subtle patterns into you. Letting you rant and ramble as he listens, mock hums and nods punctuating his silent attention, a display of his apparent engagement in your discourse. You were a part of his harem but not in a traditional sense. He never felt the need to bed you, being content with your presence alone. You were given free rein to do as you pleased in his temple, able to get away with most things that others would have been killed on the spot for. Your voice faded, drawing Sukuna's attention. His piercing gaze met yours as he opened all four eyes, the weight of his dominance evident in the command that followed. Who told you to stop, brat? he huffed, a mixture of irritation and amusement coloring his voice, reaffirming the peculiar nature of your relationship.